Power, Wealth and Social Status: Side Stories
by Excessively Complex
Summary: Side stories and one shots from the Power, Wealth and Social Status series. May be prequels, sequels or set during the time of the main story.
1. That Bar He Used To Go To

**I don't quite know what happened here but I'm suffering from block again on PWSS and plot bunnies struck, obviously! Bit of insight into what happened pre-Bellamort. I guess this is the first of the PWSS one shots! I hope you like it!**

 **x-x**

Lucius headed to the back of the bar with the bottle, expecting to find Voldemort there. Sure enough he was, surrounded by people. Confidently, Lucius approached the table and slammed the bottle down. Voldemort smirked up at him. "Come and sit," he said, beckoning to the space next to him. Lucius loved that there was always a space reserved for him, but then Voldemort did always like to keep his best supporters closest.

"Is this for me, Malfoy?" Evan Rosier asked from Voldemort's other side, grinning as he poured himself some of the firewhiskey.

"Is he drunk already?" Lucius asked Voldemort softly as he sat down.

Voldemort smiled. "When is he not?" he answered, picking up the bottle and pouring large measures for each of them before passing it round to Selwyn. "Any news?"

Lucius shook his head, noticing a couple of people craning their heads to get closer and hear what was being said. "Not today, no," he responded. "My father had a private meeting, though." He bent his head closer to whisper. "I could do this far better without him getting in the way."

Voldemort nodded slowly, his expression serious for a moment. "I know, you're very good at it," he said, taking a sip of his drink. "You know he'll want to retire soon," he responded, turning his back to block the others out of the conversation. "As soon as you are married, he will want to retire."

Lucius scowled slightly, shaking his head. "I don't want to get married," he said, frowning.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Lucius, who suddenly felt a bit nervous. "Yes you do," he said, his voice firm. "An allegiance with the Black's is exactly what we need." He tilted his head, looking at Evan. "Your cousin is attractive enough, isn't she?"

Evan was nodding. "Yes, she's lovely to look at," he said. "She gives as good as she gets, as well. I would introduce you, but I think she's a bit young for you…" Evan grinned cheekily. Lucius half expected Voldemort to kill him instantly but he just laughed.

"You're talking about Bellatrix," Lucius replied coolly. "I am betrothed to Narcissa."

Evan pulled a face. "Oh. She _is_ attractive but..."

"I know what she looks like," Lucius snapped back. "I've spent enough years at school with her."

Voldemort chuckled, turning back around to include the others. "No need for misery tonight, Lucius," he said, gesturing to some girls that had now entered the bar and were looking over at them. Lucius picked up his drink, surveying them over it. He wasn't sure he liked the look of any of them, but Voldemort apparently did and Evan liked anything that wore a skirt. The Dark Lord beckoned to one of them with one long finger. The girl, around twenty, was the shortest out of them all, but decked in very high heels. She had long and curly light brown hair and was well dressed in a short golden dress that complimented her golden skin.

He glanced back to the Dark Lord and noticed a tinge of red in his eyes, before heading over to the bar to get another bottle for everyone. The remaining girls giggled as he walked past, it was very obvious who he was because of his trademark long blond hair. Usually he used this to his advantage with them, but tonight he wasn't bothered. Thought of marriage had upset his balance; he was enjoying this new life of a bachelor out with the Dark Lord. When he had a bottle of firewhiskey in each hand, he returned to the table, filling every glass he could see. He reclined in the seat, watching Voldemort and the young woman converse across the table. She was making no moves to sit next to him, in fact she appeared to know exactly who he was and seemed to be up for a chase.

"But you are dressed as a Gryffindor," Voldemort was saying, his eyebrows raised mockingly. Evan and some of the others laughed at this comment.

The girl merely smirked back at him. "I am," she said, nodding. "But I think you like what you see."

Voldemort laughed again. "I would prefer to make my judgement when I have seen you without your little Gryffindor dress," he said, staring at her.

"You'll have to come and see," she said, her voice slightly coy. "I am here with my friends tonight."

"Young ladies such as yourselves do not come to a place like this ordinarily," Voldemort replied, looking her up and down again. "Which leads me to believe you are here for something other than your friends."

The girl smirked at him again. "I have no idea what you mean," she replied.

Lucius snorted quietly, drinking his drink. As if. These girls knew exactly what they were doing.

"You're forgetting that I am the Dark Lord, my dear," Voldemort said, his voice changing to a slightly louder one. "And that I can see every little thought in that brain of yours."

That wiped the smirk off her face. She gasped, staring at him. "You – You can do that?" she asked, stepping back slightly.

Evan burst out laughing.

Voldemort smiled at her. "I can," he said, his voice indifferent. "I invited you over here because I can see that your friends have other ideas." He tilted his head towards Lucius, who rolled his eyes. He was used to gold diggers, but it did irritate him sometimes. "But you have some ambition beyond marrying a man for his money, and I like that."

"I would join you," she said, after a moment. She was met by more laughter. Voldemort tilted his head to look at Lucius who was also laughing at the notion of this. She looked irritated. Then Lucius noticed Voldemort's wand in his hand and smirked. He loved it when young women tried to join them; it was always such a sport. Quickly, Voldemort raised his wand and the spell hit her cleanly. It turned her dress silver. She gasped, stepping back from them before realising what he had done.

"I am not sure you have the… ah… " He paused, looking around at his followers who were still laughing. " _Speed_ in defence that we require."

"Turn my dress back to how it was," she said, frowning at him.

"Do you want to fuck me or not?" Voldemort asked, his voice slightly cold. "I will not spend my evening with a woman who insists upon wearing Gryffindor colours before me, as a way to rile me." He leant forwards, tapping his fingers on the table, staring intently at her. Then his face changed into a smile, as if it had all been a joke. Lucius caught Evan's eye, trying not to laugh. They both knew that it definitely had not been a joke. The Dark Lord _was_ very particular. "Come and sit," he said, beckoning her again. Evan stood, allowing her room, before heading over to the girls at the bar. They looked interested in him as well; Evan had the Rosier's good looks.

Voldemort poured himself another drink. "Ever had firewhiskey?" he asked the girl, holding his drink up.

"No," she replied, slightly nervous now. He put his arm around her, drawing her closer, before holding his glass up to her and feeding her some of it. She coughed slightly as it burnt her throat. The others laughed, but Voldemort didn't. He held the glass up to her again, tipping it up. She had no choice but to open her mouth and drink it, otherwise it would have spilt down her chin.

"What do you think?" he asked, before downing the glass in one and slamming it down on the table.

"I hate it," she said, shaking her head and pulling a face.

"Well, go and get yourself something you do like," Voldemort said shortly. "Put it on my tab. Bring another bottle of whiskey." Lucius watched as she walked away, apparently slightly nervous still. "Merlin, I need a woman who can keep up with me," he murmured to Lucius. "A woman that can tolerate a proper drink, isn't stupid and knows not to order me about. I'll marry her as soon as I find her, because that will be perfection."

Lucius chuckled. "And a pureblood."

Voldemort sighed lightly. "I'm asking for the impossible."

"You don't want to get married, my Lord," Lucius said after a moment.

Voldemort looked back at him, raising an eyebrow. Lucius wondered if he'd said too much. "If the right woman turns up I would," he said softly. "One day I am sure I shall require a son."

Lucius shook his head. "I don't think Narcissa Black will be able to drink firewhiskey so you can't have her."

Voldemort laughed. "I've never met the Black girls," he said, thoughtfully. "I think that awful mother of theirs locks them away when I go around to their house."

"I could imagine her keeping them permanently locked away," Lucius muttered. "She is pretty," he said, after a moment. "Narcissa, I mean."

Voldemort looked back at him. "So you don't mind that you've ended up with the middle Black?"

"I thank Merlin I have," Lucius replied quickly. "The youngest girl is awful, she seems to like Mudbloods."

"And the eldest?" Voldemort asked. "Bellatrix, isn't it?"

Lucius scowled. "Spoiled brat. Thinks she's something special. "

Voldemort watched as the girl in the now silver dress headed back over with a glass of rose wine. "I've heard she's beautiful," he said softly.

"And she knows it," Lucius responded darkly, going back to his drink.

"Now I'd hardly call this pink grape juice a proper drink," Voldemort said, opening the new bottle of firewhiskey.

"It tastes nice," the girl said, smiling slightly. Voldemort shook his head and poured a glug of whiskey into her drink. She looked slightly irritated again and was about to put it down when he grabbed her wrist.

"You will drink it," he said, his voice cool again. "I bought you that. Don't be rude."

Lucius could sense the fear coming from the young woman, but he had learned very quickly that Voldemort seemed to like that. It was interesting to watch, really. As if cursed, the young woman took a sip of the wine. "I can hardly taste it," she said, and Lucius could see she was lying. She glanced up to the Dark Lord. "Thank you for the drink."

"You're welcome," Voldemort replied, smiling warmly at her.

"It seems your friends are leaving," Lucius said, noticing the girls leaving. Evan was waving cheerily at them as he left too, one of them already holding onto him.

"How rude of them not to say goodbye to you," Voldemort said, his tone slightly mocking.

"They are probably just jealous that I am sat here with the Dark Lord and Lucius Malfoy," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Voldemort chuckled, putting one arm around her and drawing her closer. "And several of my best Death Eaters," he responded. "Perhaps they are wise to leave."

The girl cocked her head. "Or boring," she said lightly.

Lucius laughed coldly. "Definitely wise."

"I don't see you with anyone," she retorted.

It was Voldemort's turn to laugh. "Lucius is feeling rather disheartened tonight, aren't you, Lucius?" he asked, still laughing at Lucius scowled. "He is to be married, you see, and that is a distressing thought."

Lucius shook his head. "Do not tell everyone," he said coolly, knowing that was probably the limit of what he could say in defence of himself.

Voldemort continued to laugh. "If you chose it, marriage could be in name only." Lucius noticed Voldemort's fingers creeping up below her skirt. She looked up at him, kind of shocked. "All you need it the heir," he continued, as if nothing was happening.

"True," Lucius responded, smirking at the expression on her face. Her hand tried to bat Voldemort's away, but he grabbed her wrist with his free hand, staring at her coldly.

"I know you're enjoying it," he said, smirking around him again. He looked back to her. "I can smell you from here." His fingers continued what they were doing, slowly more and more of his arm being concealed by her skirt. Lucius heard her gasping.

It wasn't the first time, by any means, he had seen this happening. He thought it was probably some sort of power game for the Dark Lord, a demonstration to his followers just how powerful and amazing he was. He continued to talk to one of the others and Lucius could see she was getting pretty red and flustered now. Then suddenly she moaned, softly, but it was still a moan and Voldemort withdrew, smirking and smearing his wet fingers down her leg. "Disgusting," he murmured, grinning at his followers who were still laughing.

The young woman moved closer to him, her hand resting on the top of his leg. She murmured something to him, Lucius couldn't quite hear what. Voldemort was laughing again.

"Later," he said, kissing her very briefly on the lips. She looked pretty happy at that and seemed content to drink her whiskey spiked wine. Lucius noticed Rodolphus Lestrange heading into the bar. He nodded slightly to Voldemort and sat down next to Lucius.

"Who is the bitch?" he asked, his voice rough as he pulled out a packet of cigarettes and offered them around to everyone. Lucius and Voldemort both took one, lighting them with their wands.

"Who knows," Lucius responded. "She's had one orgasm so far."

Rodolphus laughed, catching Voldemort's attention. "You missed her friends," he said, smirking. "Rosier left with them."

"How many of them?" Rodolphus asked, frowning slightly.

"Four," Lucius said, pouring Rodolphus whiskey.

Rodolphus snorted. "As if Rosier can cope with that many all at once. He can barely fuck himself with his hand." Lucius laughed at that. Evan was drunk so often he thought that was probably true. "Shame I missed them." He took a long drag of the cigarette. "Anyway, Malfoy. It turns out we're going to be brothers."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Which Black have you got stuck with?"

"Bellatrix," Rodolphus said, knocking back his drink. "She's the beautiful one, right?"

Lucius sighed, noticing Voldemort in conversation with Nott now. "If you're into that."

"I am," Rodolphus said, nodding. "I hear she's a wild bitch, already with a bit of a reputation."

"She's dating Wilkes's boy," Lucius replied, knowing that would irritate Rodolphus.

"That's alright," Rodolphus responded, his voice dark. "She'll pay for that on our wedding night."

Lucius smiled coldly at that suggestion, looking back at Voldemort who was now enticing the young woman to try his cigarette. She clearly didn't want to but he was holding it right by her mouth and she inhaled, coughing.

"Fuck," Rodolphus said quietly. "The Dark Lord's got a right wimp there."

"You know he enjoys his sport," Lucius murmured back. "She's been entertaining."

Rodolphus laughed, finishing off his drink and pouring more into the glass. "My Lord," he called. Voldemort looked over his shoulder, before turning around. "I'll have a go if you're bored."

Voldemort grinned at him. "Not tonight, Lestrange," he said. "This one is all nervous now I've played with her. I'm going to keep her."

Rodolphus raised his glass. "To a good catch," he said, downing the liquid again.

Voldemort looked back to the young woman. "I want that fuck now," he said, his tone slightly coarse. "Come on." He took her hand, pulling her to standing with him. "Lucius, see me tomorrow when you can."

Lucius nodded. "Goodnight," he said, smirking at the girl. She looked incredibly nervous. Voldemort kissed her again, harder this time, and Lucius could see her melt into the touch and slide her arms around him. She was gasping when he pulled away. Lucius could see Voldemort tugging her skirt up as he disapparated them away.

Rodolphus sat back, lighting another cigarette. "How does he do it? He behaves horrendously and still gets away with it."

Lucius smirked. "He's the Dark Lord. He has something none of us will ever have."

Rodolphus snorted. "A massive _wand_ , from what I've heard."

Lucius finished his drink, ignoring the vulgar comment. Malfoy's were never vulgar. "See you tomorrow," he said quietly, standing up to pay the bar tab. Then he disapparated, wondering how long he would be able to continue with evenings such as these.


	2. The Betrothal to Rodolphus Lestrange

Bellatrix looked at herself in the mirror, feeling slightly nervous. She decided that she looked alright. Her hair looked lovely, as usual, falling in long curls to the middle of her back. Make up was always easy, although her mother made comments if she wore too much lipstick so she'd taken it easy on that today. Something to do with red being the colour of whores. Bellatrix rolled her eyes at the thought; red was just a colour that suited her.

It was her robes she had that upset her. They made her look like a sixteen year old. Which, of course, she was. She wanted to feel like an adult though. Still, she had some lovely stilettos that she could wear with ease and her mother didn't seem to mind them.

She fiddled nervously with her hair. She'd been betrothed several before, but this was the first time she'd actually been introduced to her intended. She wasn't sure if it was because she was older now, or if this betrothal was a serious one. All she knew about Rodolphus Lestrange is that he was good looking, and she'd only heard that through some of the idiots at school, and that he was in his mid twenties. That part didn't worry her, though. She'd heard of girls her age being married off to much older men.

Distantly, she could hear her name being called, and she knew she had to go. With a sigh she left her bedroom, trying to walk down the stairs with as much dignity as she could muster. Narcissa and Andromeda had been confined to their rooms for this visit, as the three of them so often were. She knew her mother and father often entertained the Dark Lord and his followers, and that her father regularly met with him. It irritated her that she had yet to meet him and that she was forced to sit in her room, knowing he was in their house.

She'd heard stories about his good looks too, but she didn't think that they could be true as he had been a few years below her father at school. That would make him old.

As she entered the parlour, she could see her mother's scrutinising gaze upon her, but she ignored it – as she always did.

"Mr Lestrange will be here shortly," Druella told her. "He comes from a good family."

Bellatrix nodded, smoothing down her robes. "Mother, I was wondering if perhaps I might have some more… grown up robes, now I will soon be of age," she said, knowing her mother probably wasn't going to like that.

To her surprise, Druella nodded. "Yes, certainly," she said, coldly as usual. "I will have my dressmaker attend you later."

Bellatrix smiled slightly. "Thank you, Mother," she murmured. "Will Father be joining us?"

"No," Druella said, slightly shortly. Bellatrix wondered what the matter was. "He is busy today. But we have decided that you should spend a little bit of time alone with Mr Lestrange today, so you might talk freely. Your wedding will take place after you have finished school."

"Straight after?" Bellatrix asked, frowning slightly. She didn't want to become a wife straight away, she wanted to join the Dark Lord and prove that a woman could do more than bear children and look after a house. That left her with a year from now until she would be married.

Druella glared at her slightly. "That will be decided later. It would not be proper to mention that to Mr Lestrange."

"Of course not, Mother," Bellatrix responded, trying not to roll her eyes. She could suddenly hear footsteps coming towards the parlour, and she realised that the elf must have let Rodolphus in. She inhaled sharply as the door opened and he entered.

He was good looking, those rumours were true. He had light brown hair, fairly pale skin, dark eyes and was tall and well built. Bellatrix swallowed as their eyes met, before hastily looking away. She didn't want a lecture from her mother.

"Mr Lestrange," Druella said, moving forwards to shake his hand. "Thank you for coming."

"It is a pleasure," Rodolphus said, smiling slightly.

"I'm afraid my husband has some business to attend to today."

"Of course," Rodolphus responded lightly. "This must be your daughter," he continued, gesturing to Bellatrix slightly. She could see he didn't look particularly comfortable.

"This is Bellatrix," Druella said, stepping away from them slightly. "I'll have some tea sent in," she said, before leaving the room and shutting the door.

Bellatrix swallowed, not expecting such an early departure from her mother. She smiled slightly at him, seeing that he was looking at her carefully. "Shall we sit, Mr Lestrange?" she asked awkwardly after a moment.

"Yes," Rodolphus replied, his deep voice gruff. They sat down on separate armchairs, facing each other. Bellatrix noticed two cups of tea appear on the table, together with some biscuits. She gestured to them, picking her cup and taking a sip. It was hot and burnt her tongue slightly. She winced, trying to hide her clumsiness.

"Do you work in the Ministry?" she asked after a long moment of silence.

He looked up at her, smirking slightly. "I don't, no."

Bellatrix was unsure what he meant. "How do you know my father, then?"

Rodolphus took a bite of his biscuit, looking at it with a certain element of dislike. "Through a mutual friend," he said, looking back at her.

"That's a relief," Bellatrix said, trying to smile at him. "I hate those Ministry wife types." Rodolphus didn't respond. "You went to school in France, didn't you?"

"Yep," Rodolphus replied, looking at her again. "A long time ago now." Bellatrix bit her lip, feeling uncomfortable again. He must have noticed. "Well, not that long really. Seven years ago." Bellatrix swallowed. Seven years ago she had been nine years old. That was a terrifying thought. "Your father said you have one year left at Hogwarts."

"That's right," she said softly.

"He says you're a good student." Rodolphus reached for his tea, his sleeve riding up slightly. Bellatrix gasped as she saw a hint of a green tattoo.

"You're a Death Eater?" she exclaimed.

Rodolphus looked up at her, before sitting back and drinking some of his tea. "Is that a problem?" he asked, slightly coolly.

"Not at all," Bellatrix said, trying to maintain some decorum. "I am a strong believer in the Dark Lord and his followers."

"Why is that, then?" Rodolphus asked, sipping his tea again.

"I believe in the dominance of wizards and witches over muggles and mudbloods," Bellatrix told him, knowing her mother would go mad if she ever found out she was saying this to her betrothed. "Our blood is being tainted and diluted and someone had to put a stop to that." Rodolphus nodded, his expression slightly warmer now. "I…" Bellatrix hesitated; knowing her mother would actually _kill_ her is she overheard this. "I would love to join him."

"There aren't any other women, and certainly not any wives, in his ranks," Rodolphus replied, raising his eyebrows at her.

"I could be the first," she said, putting her cup down and looking at him.

Rodolphus smiled back, slightly warmer again. "What about bearing heirs and looking after my house?" he said, slightly sarcastically.

Bellatrix shook her head. "I…" She looked back to him, before noticing his smirk.

"There aren't many clever pureblood girls like you out there," he said, setting his teacup down too. "Why would I want to waste your talent, when it is plain you would be an asset to our force?"

Bellatrix gasped. "You mean it?"

"The Dark Lord would have to decide, of course," Rodolphus said, nodding. "He will come to our wedding and he can decide."

"That would be…" Bellatrix couldn't find the words; she was so excited at the prospect.

"You're not like I thought you would be," Rodolphus said, after a moment.

"What did you think I'd be like?" Bellatrix asked, frowning at him.

"Boring as fuck," Rodolphus told her, his expression changing as he realised what he'd said.

Bellatrix sniggered. "You can swear, I'm not a baby."

Rodolphus smiled back at her, and Bellatrix was certain it was the first genuine smile she'd seen on his face. "I should hope not," he said. "How offended do you think your mother would be if I had a smoke?"

"She doesn't need to know," Bellatrix replied, grinning at him. "Did they teach you magic at that school in France or not?"

She watched as he pulled out his cigarettes and lit one with his wand. "They did," he said, pulling on it. "But less helpful spells and more duelling." He looked up at her, before offering her the cigarette. Bellatrix shrugged, before taking it from him. "Hogwarts is tame. I'll have to teach you some real spells."

Bellatrix laughed, before taking a puff from the cigarette. She was pleased that she didn't cough or embarrass herself in front of him. Then she handed it back. "Sounds good," she said, smirking at him. "And then you'll have to learn how to be beaten by a girl."

Rodolphus laughed, sitting back in his chair and looking over at her. "We'll see, won't we." He quickly finished his cigarette, before waving his wand slightly to get rid of the smell. "So maybe in a couple of weeks you'd come out to dinner with me?" he asked, looking slightly awkward again.

Bellatrix nodded, smiling at him. "I'd like that," she said with a nod.

"I know you're not seventeen for a couple of weeks yet, but I don't see any harm in us having a few drinks and seeing where things go," he said, his voice slightly lowered. "I'm not a Malfoy type," he continued, looking at her closely and sitting forwards in his seat. "I don't do courting. Either you're my girl, or you're not."

Bellatrix laughed softly, sitting forwards in her seat as well. She was relieved. "I'll have to think about whether I want that or not," she said, grinning cheekily at him. "I'll make my decision when I see where you're going to take me out."

Rodolphus nodded, smirking at her. "You'll definitely want me then," he said, his voice slightly dark. He shifted towards her and pressed a rough kiss against her lips. Bellatrix was slightly taken aback, but she didn't mind. She grinned at him again.

"Mr Lestrange…" she began.

Rodolphus shook his head at her. "We're beyond that now."

"So soon?" Bellatrix asked, raising her eyebrows at him.

"Is there a need to be formal?" he asked, finishing his tea and standing up. Bellatrix stood too.

"For now," she said, rolling her eyes. "My mother…"

"Every single man in the country knows what your mother is like," Rodolphus responded, shaking his head. "So the sooner we are married, the better."

"Agreed," Bellatrix said, nodding. "Well, I await your owl."

Rodolphus smirked at her. "I'll think of you later," he said, his eyes flicking up and down her body. "Nice shoes." He was still smirking at he left the room, and Bellatrix heard a pop of apparation as he left. Slowly, she picked up the tray and headed to the kitchen where she knew her mother would be waiting to hear every detail. She knew she was going to have to be very artistic with the truth about what they had talked about.

Bellatrix couldn't believe her luck.

x-x

It had been over a week, and Bellatrix was feeling pretty depressed that she hadn't heard from Rodolphus. The family always had breakfast together, so that morning she decided that she was going to ask.

She swallowed slightly, picking up her teacup. "Mr Lestrange was going to write to me," she said, trying to keep her voice disinterested.

Druella looked up from her paper. "Lestrange?" she asked, frowning slightly. "We've cancelled your betrothal to him," she said, looking at Cygnus.

"Cancelled our betrothal?" Bellatrix asked, feeling very disappointed. "But why?"

Druella looked up at Cygnus, and Bellatrix could see it had been very much his decision. Her father shook his head. "He wasn't good enough for you, Bellatrix."

Bellatrix frowned. "I liked him."

Cygnus looked slightly uncomfortable. "It's the right decision."

Bellatrix looked back down at her breakfast, trying to stop her chin from wobbling with tears. She had spent the last week imagining her future with Rodolphus, and now it was in ruins.

"I was thinking of a trip to Diagon Ally today, girls," Druella said after a moment.

"I don't feel so well, may I be excused?" Bellatrix said, desperate to escape the table. She could see Narcissa and Andromeda looking at her funnily, but she didn't care.

"You may," Cygnus said, quickly. Bellatrix could hear Druella sighing at her behaviour, but she didn't care.

Hastily, Bellatrix fled from the table, running up to the top of the stairs and shutting herself in her room. She flung herself down on her bed, crying quietly. She hated how her mother and father thought they could ruin her life like this. Rodolphus was going to be her ticket to the Dark Lord and a life of freedom and now it was all so uncertain again. She wondered who she could end up with now and hoped fervently that she wasn't going to end up with Lucius Malfoy. Although he was betrothed to Narcissa, she could still see herself as an option for Malfoy as she was a year older than Narcissa, and therefore could be married a year sooner.

There was a gentle tap on her door. "Bellatrix?" It was her father. She ignored him. "Your mother wanted to know if you are going to go with them to Diagon Alley. They are ready now."

"No," Bellatrix replied, hoping her voice didn't sound to teary but it came out weak.

"Alright," he said. Then she could hear his voice, slightly quieter. "I've got a visitor coming, someone you should meet. Will you make yourself presentable and come down shortly?"

Bellatrix sighed, but she couldn't help but wonder who it was going to be. Perhaps it was Rodolphus, come to beg to marry her. "Yes, father," she responded, hearing his footsteps moving away from her door. As soon as he was gone she stood up, making sure her hair looked good and putting on some makeup. She could hear a different male voice in the hall, and she was excited, certain it must be Rodolphus.

She glanced at the tube of red lipstick. Her mother was out of the house and her father didn't mind, as long as she was happy. She picked it up, applying it to her lips. She smirked at her reflection when she was done, certain this was going to make Rodolphus want her very badly. She stepped into her new stilettos and headed for the door.

Her father was in his study with whoever this man was. She lingered in the hall for a moment, before finally the door opened.

It wasn't Rodolphus standing there.

The man, whoever he was, was gorgeous. The most gorgeous man she had ever seen. She could feel her jaw dropping open as she looked at him, struggling to breathe from the shock of seeing him. She must have looked foolish, standing in the middle of the hallway and gaping opening at him.

Then he smiled, and she was aware of a very dark aura coming from him. She suddenly noticed that he didn't seem to be able to take his eyes away from her, either. She hoped, with every fibre of her being, that she was now betrothed to this man.

She didn't notice, but her father was just leaving his study. He was watching them with a smile on his face. Cygnus knew very well that the Dark Lord was the perfect man for his daughter in every way. He would die a very happy man indeed if he could see her married to him. Bellatrix was his prize jewel – and he was desperate that she should have the very best. Things had worked out perfectly.

x-x

 **Lloyd gave me this idea. Thanks, Lloyd! I do kind of like the Bellatrix x Rodolphus ship so this was fun to write.**

 **Also I should just mention that for the purposes of this world Narcissa and Andromeda have swapped ages, and Andromeda is the youngest.**


	3. Vampires and Birthdays

**Here is the third one shot. This is set during chapter 1 and chapter 2 and is about what Voldemort did when he went away the first time. The vampire Akasha is mentioned in the letters section of chapter 1. Apparently I was going through a 'Queen of the Damned' phase when I wrote this, but I like the name and it's definitely not the same Akasha as is in 'Queen of the Damned'.**

 **I'm in the process of writing chapters 57, 58, 59 and 60 of PWSS as well as two more one shots. As you can tell, it's all going very well. The story of my life seems to be having lots of different chapters on the go and getting stuck on all of them.**

x-x

Akasha was not going to speak to him without a fight - he could see that now. He'd caught sight of her in Munich and instantly knew who she was. They'd looked into each other's eyes and seen enough. An image had flashed across his eyes. It was a house, _her_ house, and he knew that he had to find it if he wanted to speak to her.

He drew his cloak further around him, looking down on the fjords of Norway. It was cold here. Maybe the vampire liked that. He wasn't sure Norway was the right place; somehow the house in the image didn't look Norwegian. He sighed, stepping back into the forest and apparating away. He needed somewhere to stay.

The woman in the local tavern eyed him suspiciously but allowed him a room anyway. He sat on the small bed in the simple room, wondering why he was bothering with all of this in the first place. If the German's didn't have anything interesting or helpful for him then he doubted very much any of the Scandinavian countries did.

He opened his bag, pulling out some left over bread from yesterday. He spotted the most recent letter from Bellatrix, smiling slightly as he read over it. She was perfect, and she continued to prove that to him. Part of him was furious with Lucius for not mentioning her to him as a potential suitor. He must have known very well that Bellatrix was well suited to him. Part of him knew that he had met Bellatrix at the best time; if she had been any younger it would not have been appropriate. He was just relieved that Cygnus Black had enough sense to cancel the Lestrange betrothal. Bellatrix deserved more than Rodolphus.

In her latest letter, she had written that she was betrothed again. Voldemort didn't like that at all. But he knew that the Black's were in no hurry to marry her to the wrong man and he knew that if he went to Cygnus and asked to marry Bellatrix then he would be successful. He was feeling more and more certain every day that she was the one he should marry.

He couldn't remember ever being more attracted to a woman. That was the first thing, and he knew that was important. She was an outstanding student and she had already confessed to him that she had used the cruciatus curse. Nothing would be too difficult for her to learn. She appeared to be fearless. She had impeccable blood. He was pretty sure she would drink whiskey if it was offered to her as well.

She was perfect.

So he had to ask himself why he was chasing after some vampire, who probably wasn't going to be much use to him, when he should be laying his claim on her.

He lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. She would keep. Her birthday was a week away, he would go to Cygnus on that night and he would ask to marry Bellatrix. And if Cygnus said no, then he would kidnap Bellatrix and marry her anyway.

He smirked. He wasn't sure he would be met with much resistance from her. He didn't need to be a skilled Legilimens to see how much she wanted him back.

x-x

He'd found Akasha's house in Sweden. It was simple enough with some tracking spells. He was slightly nervous, because it was night and the vampires would be strongest. He knew some good spells though.

As he approached, he could see her standing under a tree, her purple eyes shining through the darkness. "You found me, then," she called out. Voldemort was surprised that her accent was more French than anything.

"I did," Voldemort replied, smirking and stepping closer. Out of the corner of his eye he could see many other sets of purple or red eyes glinting, and that interested him. Was she scared of him? "What made you leave Germany in such a hurry?"

Akasha stepped forward, and Voldemort could see her better in the moonlight. She was beautiful, her skin was pale white and complimented by red hair. "We have been free to come and go through Europe as we please because we can disguise ourselves and remain invisible."

"You were not invisible to me," Voldemort said, his voice soft.

"Some of my kind are scared of your power and it has forced us to retreat. In my house we are safe… But our supply of blood here has long been extinct." She smiled at him slightly, and moved closer to him. "This is no life for us."

"What do you propose?" Voldemort asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"Alliance," she said, reaching out and placing her hand on his arm. Voldemort had to repress his shiver at her cold touch – the last thing he wanted to do was offend these vampires. "We want to be free. You can ensure that for us."

"I am not in a position to give you what you want at present," he replied, frowning.

"But soon?" Akasha asked, showing her teeth as she smiled again.

"Perhaps," Voldemort said nodded. "What will you give me in return?"

Akasha shrugged. "I am unmarried. You are unmarried. Perhaps this way our alliance will be certified?"

Voldemort shook his head. "That is not possible," he said. He noticed Akasha's fangs suddenly protruding from her mouth and he could feel the other vampires drawing in towards them. He realised he had caused offence by turned her down so tactlessly. "I have promised myself to another," he added, hastily. He stared at her for a moment, and then her expression changed and she smiled at him.

"But you are not betrothed?"

"I am not," Voldemort agreed, swallowing lightly. "She will come of age in a couple of days. Then we will be betrothed."

Akasha tilted her head, watching him carefully. "You love her?"

Voldemort snorted. "No," he said, knowing that was impossible. "I chose immortality over love."

"We are immortal," she said, gesturing around her. "Our hearts ceased to beat many years ago, but we still love."

Voldemort resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. What did that matter to him? "When I rule my country I will remember you and ensure vampires are treated equally to wizards." He paused, looking around him, knowing that he should probably try to escape from the countless vampires around him. They were probably starved of blood as well. But he couldn't leave empty handed. "What will you give me in return?"

Akasha closed the gap between them. "You need strength," she said. He felt something slipping into his pocket. "A small taste of my blood will give you that. You should go away, alone, when you are ready and drink it. You will become weak before you will become strong." She pressed a kiss against his cheek. "We will be waiting."

There was a kind of surge of air around him, and then he realised after a moment that they were gone. Not daring to push his luck any longer, he turned and walked a few paces, before apparating away.

x-x

He spent a couple of days in France before he'd returned home, secretly. He adjusted the wards of the house to disallow any entry. He had to think. In his office, he shut the door and locked it, and drew the curtains over the windows tightly. He wasn't taking any chances. Then he pulled the item Akasha had put into his pocket out, and set it on the table. It was, as he had thought, he tiny vial of her blood. For hours, he sat and stared at it. He did not want to become a vampire. But they had amazing strength and this could give it to him. It was a risk.

He slammed his hands down on the table and sighed. Then he picked the vial up and slid it into his drawer locking it shut. He looked up, opening the curtains. He realised it was dark, but had no idea how long he had been brooding over the blood for. A quick spell informed him that it was eight o clock on the evening of Bellatrix's birthday. He swore, knowing he had promised that he would be there and that she would be heart broken if he didn't make it.

He scribbled a message to one of his more sensible followers, Gibbon, knowing that the man would have been invited. Then he sent a message to his house elves, telling them he needed something to eat. He could feel that it had been too long since he had eaten anything and that his magic would begin to dwindle if he carried on in this way.

He headed to his room and pulled on the closest set of dress robes, pausing for a moment to look at his reflection in the mirror. He knew he was very attractive to women. He smirked a little at the thought. Half of the women he met were a means to an end and the other half were disposable fucks. Not anymore, though.

He couldn't imagine himself with anyone other than Bellatrix. He cursed as he realised he didn't have a gift for her. He had to be a perfect gentleman tonight, and for the foreseeable future with her. He knew, in his mind, that he couldn't be like that with her forever. He knew that she would annoy him or disobey him at some point. And she would need to understand who the boss was. But for now, he would have to be perfect. He needed a pureblood wife to cancel his own bad blood. He needed _her._

He found a perfect gift for her, after he'd eaten. He'd found many items of jewellery in this house, having claimed it from some pureblood pretenders many years ago. The house and its contents belonged to the heir of Slytherin. And that was, undoubtedly, him. It was a small necklace with a rose shaped pendant on it. It was perfectly Bellatrix.

Midnight was approaching. He stared at himself in the mirror for a few more minutes, thinking about the vial of blood. He would probably accept Akasha's gift, but the time was not right. There was so much of the world that he wanted to explore before committing to a way that seemed so dangerous. He wanted to travel further than Europe, but it would take many months. He wasn't sure he wanted to leave Bellatrix, but perhaps it would be wise to do so before she finished her time at Hogwarts. He ran his fingers over his pale cheeks, wondering how this strengthening idea would change his appearance.

He knew the way he looked and acted got him pretty much whatever he wanted. And he wasn't ready to loose that power just yet.

x-x

Voldemort had somehow forgotten how beautiful Bellatrix was in the few weeks it had been since they had last seen each other. He was grateful that his dress robes were loosely fitted below the waist. Everything she did made him want her more and more. He'd never had this problem before. The trouble was… He was certain she was playing him. She seemed to know exactly what she was doing, down to the little flicker of amusement in her eyes.

All he wanted to do was take her home with him and fuck her until she couldn't walk. He was convinced that she wanted the same. Simple things, like fucking, were made complicated by pureblood etiquette. He had to marry the girl first. Painfully, so painfully, he parted with her and found Cygnus.

"My Lord," Cygnus said softly, looking at the champagne flute in Voldemort's hand with a frown. "I think we can find you a better drink," he said, smirking knowingly.

Voldemort snorted back. "Shall we go to your study? There's something I'd like to discuss."

"Of course," Cygnus said, and Voldemort followed him to a quieter part of the house. Cygnus shut the door behind him, before pouring them both a whiskey. "My daughter is very taken with you," he said, handing Voldemort the drink.

Voldemort smiled to himself, not wanting to let too much show. "Most young ladies are."

"Indeed," Cygnus responded, gesturing to the chair by his desk. They both sat down. "Bellatrix is no longer betrothed. The two most recent matches proved undesirable in the end."

"Why is that?" Voldemort asked, sipping from the glass.

Cygnus set his glass down, looking at Voldemort thoughtfully. "Bellatrix is everything I hoped my daughter would be. She has more than the other two. You might say I am soft for her, certainly that is what my wife says."

"You wish her happiness," Voldemort replied, nodding. "Well, I would like her to bear my mark. I would like to train her. I suspect any husband may not enjoy that though."

Cygnus shrugged, smiling slightly. "Rodolphus Lestrange didn't seem to mind the idea."

Voldemort tried to hide his irritation. "Rodolphus Lestrange, as you know, is not the type of man any father should marry his daughter to."

"He was not happy at having her taken away from him," Cygnus said, raising his eyebrows. "He says he will duel any other suitor for her hand."

"I want to marry her," Voldemort said sharply. "He can duel me."

Cygnus didn't look particularly surprised, and Voldemort was irritated with himself for letting his guard down so quickly. "I have decided to leave the choice up to Bellatrix," Cygnus said quietly after a moment. "I shall go and find her and bring her here, and ensure she wants to be trained by you."

"She'd be mad to turn me down," Voldemort said, his voice slightly cold.

"She can come and stay with you," Cygnus said, after a moment. "She can get to know you a bit, under the pretence of training. All I ask is that she remains pure until you are married."

Voldemort nearly laughed, but he held himself together. There was nothing pure about Bellatrix. "Alright," he responded, taking a sip of his drink. He watched as Cygnus left the room, unable to believe that he had just allowed that conversation to happen.

Bellatrix returned, and he stared at her, smiling slightly as he half listened to the conversation that was taking place. All he knew was that he wanted to marry her. Protocol dictated that he should wait to ask her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to wait the night. As he looked at her beautiful face, he wondered for a second if she wanted to marry him. He knew that there was only one way to find out.

He finished his conversation with Cygnus, before leaving the room without a second glance at Bellatrix. She would follow because she was his.


	4. Antonin's Reward

**Warning: slash! Antonin/Maelor in this chapter! You've been warned, if you don't like then don't read!**

x-x

" _My Lord."_

 _Antonin Dolohov stepped into the library at the house of the Dark Lord. He was scared. He had been out of Azkaban, the place he had been imprisoned for fourteen years, for less than twelve hours. He had seen the Dark Lord a couple of hours ago and knew what he now looked like. And now, he was about to see the Dark Lord alone._

" _Come here, Dolohov," a voice replied. It was much colder than the previous voice, although Antonin knew only too well how quickly the Dark Lord could turn on the cold voice if something displeased him enough before._

 _Swallowing nervously, Antonin stepped further into the room. It was very dark, apart from the fire crackling in the hearth. Even that was slowly dying. It was bright enough to illuminate the Dark Lord's face though, and that was terrifying. As he approached, Antonin knelt. He didn't want to stare and he didn't think he could help himself if he continued looking._

" _You have served me well," Voldemort said, after a moment._

" _Thank you, my Lord," Antonin responded; surprised his voice had come out so strong. He really didn't feel strong. "My apologies, my Lord… I have come to you with a… a domestic problem and I am sorry to trouble you with it…"_

 _There was silence, but Antonin didn't dare to look up. Then Voldemort spoke. "You may stay here, Dolohov, for as long as you require. I am aware that you have lost your house, with no one to guard your assets whilst you served me in Azkaban."_

 _Antonin bowed his head further, aware that his hands were shaking. "T-thank you, my Lord," he mumbled. "I would do it all again to serve you."_

x-x

Antonin felt incredibly insignificant to Maelor Yaxley. He had been in no way a high-ranking Death Eater, in fact he was surprised that he was even granted the dark mark in the first place. He had spent fourteen years of his life in Azkaban not because he knew secrets of the Dark Lord's and would rather give up his life than to tell them, but because he did not have any secrets to tell. He didn't have enough money to bribe the correct Ministry officials, or enough influence to plead the Imperius Curse.

He was lucky to be broken out of Azkaban. He knew it was only because of the mark he bore on his arm, and he knew he had only ended up in the Dark Lord's circle of trust because of the mistakes of others. He knew this, and he accepted it. He knew that he was lucky that the Dark Lord was feeling generous to those that had suffered for him, for so many years. If it wasn't for the Dark Lord offering him sanctuary in his home, he knew he would be back in Azkaban for good. The first trip to Azkaban had lost him everything, and he was homeless and penniless.

But things went wrong quickly after the Dark Lord had granted him a home and he became friends with Bellatrix. He'd been unfortunate enough to end up on the wrong side of the battle at the Department of Mysteries and went back to prison. Sharing a cell for a couple of weeks with Maelor, after the Prophecy incident, had been extremely awkward to begin with. Antonin knew where he stood.

One night, he'd been asleep on his side of the cell and he'd been woken up by the sound of crying. He sat up, realising that it was Maelor that was crying in his sleep. Antonin had scrambled over to him, holding the man in his arms and gently rocking him to sooth his crying. He'd soon fallen asleep.

As the sun shone into their cell the next morning, they had woken up. Maelor was shocked to find himself in the arms of Antonin, but their eyes had met and suddenly they both _knew_. They had stayed close for a few more minutes, but when their food arrived that was their priority and they separated. Antonin hadn't made another move after that, and their had Maelor. But Antonin knew that Maelor was interested.

He remembered the day that Maelor was moved to his own cell. Antonin had cried himself to sleep every night for a week, until they were released. Then Maelor had moved back to the world of the Ministry, and Antonin had moved back to his life of mostly solitude at the Dark Lord's house, broken up by the troubled friendship that Bellatrix offered him.

When he found out that Bellatrix was in fact the Dark Lord's wife – not the widow of Rodolphus Lestrange – Antonin found a new role for himself. Bellatrix's story was so tragic, and she herself so unpredictable, Antonin felt that he should protect her. He'd witnessed some crazy attempts to get the Dark Lord's attention. He didn't want his new friend to die. So he tried to distract her when she was angry and cuddle her when she was sad. By the sounds of things, she had every right to be angry and sad. But he was the Dark Lord, unpredictable and cold. He didn't expect things ever to be the same.

And then they won the battle. By some miracle, they won.

Antonin was thrilled that Maelor had been promoted at the Ministry. The man hadn't looked at him since that night in Azkaban. Antonin didn't think that Maelor would ever look at him again, assuming embarrassment. Antonin had extended the invitation to those highest to return to Voldemort's rooms with Bellatrix to celebrate on the evening of their victory. He knew Maelor would come in order to be with the Dark Lord.

Maelor bid everyone goodnight. As he walked past Antonin, he stopped, looking at him right in the eyes. "Come home with me," is all Maelor had said. They were the first words that Maelor had spoken to him. He sounded urgent.

Antonin said goodbye to Bellatrix before he turned and followed Maelor from the room. The man grabbed his wrist, looking into his eyes as he disapparated them.

Maelor's house was small, but it was well protected. As Antonin entered the house, he could see how well maintained it was. "Would you like a drink?" Maelor asked, shutting the front door and locking it. Antonin nodded. "I don't have any of that fancy stuff the Dark Lord keeps."

Antonin smiled, slightly nervously, following Maelor into the kitchen. "I don't really like the fancy stuff," he replied, hoping his voice wasn't trembling.

Maelor smirked up at him, and Antonin couldn't help but stare. He found Maelor so attractive, with his long blond hair and rugged face. He accepted the drink that was handed to him, realising it was firewhiskey. "To the Dark Lord and Lady," Maelor said, raising his glass. Antonin raised his glass back, before taking a sip. "Let's go and sit." Antonin nervously followed Maelor into the lounge, sitting down on one end of the double sofa. Maelor sat on the other end. "I had no idea they were married."

Antonin shook his head. "She told me, by accident, a few months ago. I could hardly believe it. But they seem so close tonight."

"You seem very friendly with Bellatrix," Maelor said after a moment.

"We've both been lonely," Antonin responded after a moment. "We both needed a friend."

Maelor looked at him, carefully. "I should have approached you sooner… After… That night."

Antonin shrugged. "You've been busy," he murmured.

"It's not that," Maelor responded. "I didn't know how I felt about you. You're all I've been thinking about, for the last _year_ … I didn't understand, I didn't know what to do about it…"

Antonin reached out and pressed his hand against Maelor's. "I've been thinking about you, too."

"You've seen something that no one else has seen," Maelor replied, looking over at him with a frown on his features. "I am never vulnerable."

"Of course you are," Antonin responded. "You're human. We all are. We need each other."

"Is that what you want?" Maelor asked. "Us to be…"

"If that's what you want," Antonin replied, looking down at his glass. He felt Maelor shift, and as he looked up he realised that Maelor was right next to him and that their lips were closing in on each other. Antonin closed his eyes as they touched, groaning slightly at the contact.

Maelor pulled back, looking at him in concern. "Are you alright?" Antonin nodded, moving back in to continue kissing. Maelor's lips were so soft, and this felt so right. They finally parted, gasping for breath. "You've suffered enough," Maelor murmured, putting his arm around Antonin's shoulders. "I'd like to ensure you don't suffer again, if you'll let me?"

Antonin smiled, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "I'd like that." He looked up at Maelor. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Maelor replied, his voice slightly gruff.

"That… night…" Maelor flinched slightly. Antonin swallowed, but decided to carry on. "What were you dreaming about?"

Maelor shook his head. "It's… Ridiculous, seeing how you spent fourteen years there with Dementors." He looked back to Antonin. "I was dreaming that they took you away."

"We'd never spoken much before," Antonin responded, feeling confused.

"I know," Maelor said, shrugging. "I never knew what to say. I've never admitted my sexuality to anyone. I can barely admit it to myself. How could I have told you that I…"

"You kind of did tonight?" Antonin said, smiling slightly.

"You already knew," Maelor replied.

Antonin couldn't argue with that. He turned back to his drink, emptying the glass. "I should go back," he said, after a moment. "It's getting light."

"Stay the night," Maelor said, and Antonin could tell he'd just blurted the words out. They looked into each other's eyes. "I don't want anything from you right now, apart from your company."

Antonin nodded. "I'll stay," he said, feeling nervous again. Maelor took Antonin's glass and set it on the table, before standing up and holding his hand out. Antonin took it, smiling as Maelor pulled him close and kissed him again. He followed him upstairs, noticing a small bathroom and spare bedroom on the way.

"There's an en suite through here," Maelor murmured as they reached his bedroom. Antonin nodded, stepping into the bathroom to use the toilet. As he emerged, he realised Maelor was taking his clothes off. Antonin swallowed, doing the same and undressing down to his underwear. Maelor averted his gaze as he went into the en suite, leaving Antonin to hastily get into bed and pull the covers around himself.

Maelor came out of the en suite, shutting the bedroom door before getting into bed next to Antonin. The bed was quite small for a double, so they were close to each other. Then Maelor flicked his wand and extinguished the lights. "I am hoping that the First Secretary to the Minister of Magic gets paid better than I do currently," he said after a moment.

Antonin chuckled. "I'm pretty sure the job comes with a nice mansion," he replied.

"Has the Dark Lord offered you a position yet?"

"Not as such," Antonin responded after a pause. "He said I could have whatever position I wanted."

"What do you want? I could find you a great position at the Ministry."

Antonin was enjoying the sound of Maelor's deep, gravelly voice in the darkness of the bedroom. He smiled to himself. "I'm not sure I want you to be my boss."

Maelor laughed, shifting closer to Antonin and pressing his hand onto Antonin's arm. "I'd let you get away with all kinds of mischief," he replied, running his fingers up and down Antonin's forearm. "I'd let you be late for work and leave early."

"Anything else?" Antonin asked, smirking.

Maelor pressed a kiss against his cheek. "I'd let you come into my office and hide under my desk."

Antonin tilted his head, feeling Maelor's breath on his face. "Why would I do that, First Secretary Yaxley?" he asked, grinning now.

"You can use your imagination," Maelor responded, laughing softly. "Can I ask you something personal?"

Antonin snorted. "We are in bed together, Maelor," he responded, fully aware that this was the first time he'd used Maelor's first name in front of him. His breath hitched slightly as Maelor's hand moved over and rested on his stomach.

"I am aware," Maelor said, moving his hand in small circles. "Do you prefer to top or bottom?"

Shifting slightly closer, Antonin smiled to himself. "Bottom."

"Ah." Antonin could hear the happiness in Maelor's voice at that thought. "We are well suited."

Antonin rested his hand lightly on Maelor's thigh. "I am assuming you prefer to top?"

Maelor nodded slightly. "Yes," he said shortly. "Although I have lived as a single man for many, many years. I am out of practice."

"Don't worry, so am I," Antonin said, grinning to himself. Maelor was perfect. He felt the man sit up slightly, before bending over and kissing him on the lips.

"Goodnight, Antonin," he murmured.

Antonin shivered at the sound of his name coming from the mouth of Maelor. It was such a wonderful feeling. "Goodnight, Maelor," he replied. He shut his eyes, falling asleep with a smile on his face. Maelor was _his_.


	5. Rodolphus's Hour of Torture

**Set during chapter 25. Warnings: Violence, blood, language and sexy Voldemort.**

x-x

Voldemort was far more furious about Rodolphus trying to kill his wife than he ever let on to her. He understood where she was coming from – Rodolphus was a huge asset to his operations and he would definitely be lost without him. But Evan was just as brilliant, and now Bellatrix was doing so well perhaps he could manage.

Half of the trouble he now faced was that he was very much in love with his wife and now found that he hated every moment she spent out killing on his behalf. He was terrified of losing her, a fact he knew he needed to conceal from her for the time being. He had genuinely never expected to worry this much about her, because he had never been in a position to really worry or care about someone.

So he needed to keep Rodolphus alive.

He'd woken early the day after Bellatrix had confessed to him about what had happened and had laid in bed for a while, watching his wife sleep. He had spent ages considering how she would feel if he just got out of bed, right there and then, and found Rodolphus and killed him in the most brutal fashion that he could imagine. But, as he watched her, he realised he could not defy her wishes. She had weakened him to that extent already.

This act of Rodolphus's had been a direct act of defiance towards him. Rodolphus knew that he was married to Bellatrix, and yet he could not let her go. Bellatrix belonged to _him_ , not to anyone else. She was his. Rodolphus didn't seem able to grasp that, let alone accept it. He seemed to think he had some prior claim over her. He did not. And Voldemort was going to ensure Rodolphus realised that tonight.

Voldemort had decided Rodolphus would endure an hour of torture from his peers. He would certainly enjoy watching that as well. It would be good for his wife to see it, to experience how brutal his world could be.

He sat on his throne, feeling fairly tired after his duel with Bellatrix. She was good, not enough to beat him, but enough for him to really struggle to beat her. Considering she'd been duelling properly for little over eighteen months, she was amazing. He had no doubt that she would be able to beat him one day, if she continued improving at the rate she was.

Selwyn was having a turn with Rodolphus. Voldemort was pleased to see a great deal of imagination being brought forward by his death eater's, Rodolphus really was having a difficult time of it. He doubted very much that anyone would dare to go easy on him, when it was clear that Voldemort was angry with him. He smirked slightly, very aware of his power. It was amazing how far he'd come, for a half blood raised in a muggle orphanage. He had performed magic that no other had come close to performing, he had made friends in the highest of places and he had married a woman that most men in society could only dream of marrying. Bellatrix's blood was so pure, it did almost seem a shame to taint it with the blood of his Father.

Almost.

Voldemort noticed Evan was stepping forwards now. He smirked, sitting up slightly in his chair, very glad that he had the best view in the house because someone had dragged Rodolphus closer to him.

"Hello, Rodolphus," Evan said softly, his voice mocking.

Rodolphus opened his eyes, looking up at Evan. "Fuck you, Rosier," he snarled back.

Evan laughed, looking up to Voldemort with a smirk for a moment. Voldemort smiled coldly back.

"Be careful what you wish for," Evan replied, running his knife down Rodolphus's face. "My knife often finds itself in unexpected places."

Rodolphus didn't bother to reply. They all knew Evan wasn't going to do anything as sordid as _that_. Voldemort could see Rodolphus grit his teeth as Evan started to carve little circles into his arm. As soon as both arms, already nailed to the floor, were little more than a mangled mess, Evan got to his feet, looking down at Rodolphus's face. "Touch my cousin again, and I will _almost_ kill you, and then heal you so that I can let her husband do it to you all over again," he said, his voice soft. He leant over. "And tonight will feel like a walk in the park."

Voldemort was quite pleased that Bellatrix and Evan had developed such a strong relationship. He knew that Bellatrix would be heartbroken if anything ever happened to Evan, and part of him disliked that as he really felt she should only care about _him_. But on the other hand, Evan was good company, excellent at what he did and he was very protective of his younger cousin. Bellatrix had a habit of getting carried away, and he hoped Evan would help to curb that a little bit.

The next people to step forwards were not so imaginative, and Voldemort started thinking about what Bellatrix would do to Rodolphus. She'd have to do something very different – because that was what she did. He was surprised, not unpleasantly, when she did was Lucius did and refused her turn with a smirk and a shrug. The look that Rodolphus sent her could have killed her.

Voldemort turned his head, looking down at her, ignoring Rookwood as he began his turn. Bellatrix looked back at him, smiling in a triumphant manner. He nodded to her, in absolute approval, and her happy expression in return made all of this worthwhile. He knew that she absolutely lived to please him, and she had done so, spectacularly and surprisingly, tonight.

She was perfect.

He wondered when she would stop surprising him.

After Rookwood had been, the circle was complete. By the looks of Rodolphus, he wasn't going to withstand much more. The floor was red and wet, and there were footprints of blood leading to and from almost every person. He raised his hand. "A lesson learnt," he said, looking down at Rodolphus with a look of intense dislike. He stood, stepping forwards. He could see Rodolphus bracing himself. "Or so I hope," he continued.

Rodolphus's closed eyes and pale skin irritated him for a moment. "Leave us," he snapped, looking up at his followers. He could see Bellatrix leaving the room with Evan and Lucius. When everyone was gone, he stepped forwards to be next to Rodolphus. "You have let yourself down," he said softly after a moment.

Rodolphus opened his eyes, gasping for breath slightly. He moved his legs upwards, like he was trying to kneel.

"No need for that," Voldemort said, shaking his head as he surveyed the mess that was now Rodolphus. He crouched down, dipping his fingers into the blood. He smeared the red liquid onto Rodolphus's face contemplatively. "I do not know what came over you," he said, shaking his head slightly. "If you love her, you'd let her go."

"I don't…" Rodolphus began, but couldn't continue because he started coughing.

"Perhaps," Voldemort replied, understanding Rodolphus's meaning. "But you believe you have a claim over her."

Rodolphus didn't move, and Voldemort understood what that meant because Rodolphus could hardly agree to that, but he couldn't lie either.

"My wife has begged me not to kill you. She believes that you are too valuable for me to destroy." He looked down to Rodolphus's body, wondering how the man was still alive in all honestly. "I hope that you will remember that next time you imagine you have a claim to her. Remember that she holds your life in her hands, Rodolphus. If it was my way, you would be long dead."

With a sudden surge of anger, Voldemort flicked his wand, causing the two nails in each of Rodolphus's hands to be ripped out. Rodolphus groaned in pain, looking over at his hands to check the damage. Voldemort grabbed his face, forcing him to look up at him. "You are not to go near her again. I hope I have made myself clear."

"Yes, m… my Lord…" Rodolphus replied, his voice shaking.

Voldemort stood silently and walked over Rodolphus, leaving the room. Perhaps Rabastan would come back to help him. Perhaps he wouldn't.

If Rodolphus didn't make it through this, Voldemort would not be at all sad. As long as _he_ wasn't the one to finish Rodolphus off for good, Bellatrix couldn't blame him.


	6. Two Names From The List

Voldemort sat at his desk at the manor, feeling pleased with himself. Things were going well, they couldn't be better. It was only a few weeks since they had won the war and the Ministry was running smoothly. Bellatrix was as safe as she was ever going to be, now protected by Antonin and his team. For the first time, he felt like there was no stopping him. There were no barriers, no saviours and no interfering spies and double agents.

He had to admit to himself that Severus Snape had played him, and played him well. His blindness had almost lost him his one true love, and his life. But in the end, her soul had saved his. He had known, all along, that he couldn't live without her. But that was a weakness, and so he had ignored it and pushed her away. He had known how unstable he had become, and he knew as he created his final Horcrux that there was a chance – a massive chance – that the effort might finish him for good.

As soon as her soul had touched his, he knew that he was safe. She loved him with her entire being. Sometimes, when they looked at each other, he could feel a massive swelling of emotion coming from somewhere in his chest. It wasn't his emotion. It was hers. It was her soul within him. Through that connection, he would always know exactly where she was, who she was with and how she felt. And with practice, she would be able to do the same. That didn't scare him. For the first time, he was happy and complete.

There was a knock on the door. Voldemort sighed lightly, hoping the knock was not going to signal a disturbance in his peace. He flicked his finger, watching as the door opened.

A young Death Eater entered, followed by another and a woman struggling in their grasp. For a moment, all he could see was long black hair and a beautiful face, and he was about to curse the hell out of the two morons before him for daring to harm his wife. But he realised that the Horcrux bond between them was not active – she was not in danger. This was not his Bella.

"We have brought you the traitor Tonks, my Lord," one of the men said.

Voldemort stood up, walking around his desk and staring at the woman before him. He'd forgotten how much Andromeda looked like Bellatrix.

"Her wand?" Voldemort asked, his voice soft. The men threw her to the floor. Voldemort watched silently as the wand was produced and given to him. "Wait outside," he continued. One of the men left without question, but the other hesitated. Voldemort raised his eyebrows, eyes narrowed. "Yes?"

"There is a reward on her head, my Lord," he said, his tone defiant.

Voldemort laughed coldly. "You bear my mark, do you not?" he enquired.

"Yes, my Lord," the man said, his voice proud.

Voldemort stepped forwards and grabbed him by the throat, pulling him in closer. "Then it is your duty to act for me, regardless of any reward," he hissed. He squeezed for a moment, watching in satisfaction as the Death Eater turned a dark shade of red. Then he released him. "Now, wait outside." The man did was he was told and shut the door behind him.

"I don't know what my sister sees in you," Andromeda snarled from the ground.

Voldemort smiled down at her, watching as she sat up. "Yes, finally after almost twenty five years of being your brother-in-law, you learn the truth." He moved around the desk, slowly sitting down at it. "Funny you never knew. Your family couldn't trust you with it."

"They disowned me when I was just sixteen," she retorted, staring up at him. Apparently she didn't fear him one little bit. To be fair, he knew he wasn't that scary at the moment. Even his eyes were normal.

Voldemort was silent for a long moment, contemplating. He knew he should kill her, but what would Bellatrix want now? "There is no one else from the Order left," he said quietly. "Your side has lost."

"We lost honourably," Andromeda replied, leaning against the wall. Voldemort noticed a gash on the side of her head, and realised she must be feeling unwell. He admired her for a moment; she was strong like Bellatrix was.

"What do you think of reuniting with Bellatrix? And Narcissa?" he asked, wondering if that might sway her so he didn't have to kill her. He knew that putting Andromeda and Narcissa together probably wasn't the best plan, although Narcissa still had a lot to loose and he didn't think she would risk it. Not now, at least. Andromeda had lost everything.

Andromeda laughed, tilting her head to look at him. "Bellatrix would not have me back. She is tainted and obsessed with blood."

Voldemort smiled. Andromeda didn't realise how much Bellatrix had changed. "Let me tell you something," he said, and for the first time he was not afraid to say it. "Bellatrix is not obsessed with blood. I have confessed to her my true heritage, and her devotion has not changed."

She glared at him scornfully. "I know all about your heritage, _Tom_ _Riddle_ ," she hissed back. "Calling yourself Gaunt is an act of desperation. People will see it soon."

Voldemort gripped his wand tightly, careful not to let his rage show on his face. She was not going to know she had got under his skin. Carefully, he blocked Bellatrix out, although he could sense she was busy. Her arrival back home was not needed at this moment.

"You're alone, Andromeda," Voldemort said after a moment. "You have no family and you have no friends."

"Then I suggest you murder me now," she replied, and with difficulty she stood up.

"I could offer you a high place. Whatever you wanted would be yours." Voldemort knew that Andromeda was powerful now. He knew she could be useful to them. He also knew it would look _very_ good for them in the papers, if the three Black sisters were reunited once again.

"I have had what I wanted, for most of my life," Andromeda said, moving towards his desk. "Now I have lost those I love, I have lost my cause. But in the end…" She rested her hands on his desk, leaning forwards. "We have won, because we lived a life of love."

Voldemort smirked at her. "So have we," he responded. "I love Bellatrix more than I knew was possible. We have exchanged souls. We are one." He smiled at the expression of surprise on her face, watching as she drew back. "More so than any other marriage, we are one."

Andromeda moved away, frowning. "Dumbledore said you could not love."

Voldemort laughed, standing up and moving towards her. "I allowed Dumbledore to think what he wanted. I fucked every woman I saw in my younger days to let him think that. I hid a wife for twenty years. She even pretended to marry someone else to protect me and our child." He pushed her roughly against the wall, seeing her eyes widen. "Bellatrix lost our baby because of Harry Potter. Because of Lily Potter's _love_ , because of Dumbledore's lies."

"You should have considered that before you tried to kill him in the first place," Andromeda replied, frowning at him. "My sister has suffered because of _you_."

"It was all meant to be," Voldemort replied simply. "Look at us now, we have everything we could dream of."

"You've got all of it through the murder of innocent people," she snapped back. "If you're trying to get me on your side, you can give up now. I will never join you. I am not afraid to die." She smiled for a moment. "Do you think you can kill me? Not worried about upsetting your wife?"

Voldemort stepped back from her, moving towards the window. "Bella understands that things have to be done to protect what we have fought hard for." He pointed his wand towards her, knowing it was the right thing to do. She stared back at him, unflinchingly.

For a moment, Voldemort felt like he was about to kill his own wife. For a moment, he wondered if Druella had been involved in an affair, because Narcissa was so different. For a moment, he considered that if he had died and Bellatrix had fallen into the hands of their enemies, she would be staring death in the eye completely unafraid too.

He knew he had to do it. He watched as the green light left his wand and he noticed that she almost moved towards it. She wanted it. Perhaps she had given herself up to his Death Eaters.

Andromeda crumpled, hitting the ground; her eyes open and vacant. He looked down on her for a long while, before stepping over her and opening the door to the hallway. The two Death Eaters were waiting patiently. "Dispose of the body," he ordered them, sweeping past and heading towards the stairs. He needed to go to Bellatrix at the Ministry and tell her the news.

Antonin was running up the stairs towards him, panting. "My Lord!" he said, reaching him.

"What is wrong?" Voldemort asked, instantly concerned.

"Posey Weasley has made contact, she is in your office with Bellatrix," Antonin replied hastily, looking worried.

"Why?" Voldemort snapped back, continuing down the stairs. "Why did you allow it? I told you to watch out for Weasley."

"I know, my Lord," Antonin said, following him back down. "But you know what Bellatrix is like once she gets one of her ideas."

Voldemort stopped dead as they reached the fireplace, turning to look at Antonin. "More than anyone else," he responded, shaking his head. His gaze turned cold. "Do not address her familiarly in public. She is the Dark Lady."

Antonin nodded. "I know, my Lord," he said, breathing heavily. "But she insists…"

Voldemort cursed, picking up a handful of floo powder. "I know you try," he said, stepping into the flame and tossing the powder around him. He felt the familiar sensation of being pulled through the floo, before it stopped suddenly and he stepped out of the fireplace in the Atrium of the Ministry. The crowds were there, apparently awaiting his arrival. Antonin appeared in the fireplace next to him.

"Why is the Dark Lady meeting with Posey Weasley?" someone called out to him. Voldemort ignored the comments, heading towards the lift.

He cursed again as the doors of the lift shut. "Why do these things always happen at once?" he asked. "I've just had to kill her sister. And now I probably have to kill her old best friend." The lift ground to a halt. "We've been searching for them since she was twenty, you know," he told Antonin. "And now they are both here on the same day."

Antonin smiled lightly as they stepped out of the lift. "They say things come in threes, is there anyone else from her past you'd like to kill?"

Voldemort chuckled. "I'd like to bring her mother back to life and kill her again," he said, pausing outside of the door. He pressed his hand lightly against it, looking over at Antonin for a moment. "Sorry if she gets upset with you. I'm afraid your job may become a bit awkward."

Antonin shrugged. "As long as she's happy."

Voldemort smiled at him for a moment. It was nice to know his wife did have some friends she could count on, and that they were appropriate friends too. He pushed the door open, preparing himself for the worst outcome possible.

Antonin was right, Bellatrix deserved happiness. And he was going to make sure she got it, whatever the cost.


End file.
